


Bad Dreams

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: “Bad dreams?” Seregil murmured. He watched Alec nod, and let the silence draw out a bit longer before prompting: “Someone once told me that telling a nightmare is the quickest way to make it pass.” The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he offered Alec's own advice back to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I think Alec probably had a lot going on under the surface after book two, and not just the lingering effects of all he went through before the battle.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Lynn Flewelling’s Nightrunner series and do not belong to me.

Alec threw himself out of a nightmare, flinging back the cloak he'd been using as a blanket, and clenching his teeth to hold in a cry even as tears spilled down his cheeks. He choked, lungs straining, and opened his mouth to suck in greedy lungfuls of air. Hunched over and shaking, he swallowed convulsively between ragged breaths. It was pitch black in the cave he and Seregil had bedded down in the night before, their small fire having long since burned away to ashes. Through his panic, he couldn't even sense Seregil next to him, and so relief made his heart lurch painfully in his chest as he heard a quiet groan and the shifting of cloth.

“Alec?”

“Have to piss,” he croaked. Shaking so badly that he nearly fell while scrambling to his feet, he hurried for the mouth of the cave. The horses paid little attention to him as he passed, but he ran his hands along both Windrunner and Cynril, needing any small reassurance that everything was as it had been when he had fallen asleep.

Outside, he shivered in the pre-dawn chill and breathed deeply, forcing calm upon his body, if not his mind. The dream remained cruelly clear, and it took an effort to stop his tears. He was cold, colder than he should have been, and he wished that he hadn't left his boots and cloak behind in his haste.

Soft noises came from within the cave behind him. Footsteps against stone, Seregil's quiet murmuring to the horses—deliberate, warning noises so that he wouldn't be spooked by his friend's appearance at his side. Alec glanced at Seregil out of the corner of his eye, comparing the gaunt, reserved figure with the bright and talkative man who had enticed him away from the only home he had known. He looked away quickly, hugging himself against the chill, against the doubts that surged up within him threatening a fresh round of tears.

“Bad dreams?” Seregil murmured. He watched Alec nod, and let the silence draw out a bit longer before prompting: “Someone once told me that telling a nightmare is the quickest way to make it pass.” The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he offered Alec's own advice back to him.

Did he really want to talk about it? Alec scrubbed away the traces of tears, delaying. To talk about it—to put the fear behind his nightmare into words—could make it true. It was Seregil who had told him that words—that _ideas_ —had power.

Seregil, formerly the one out of the pair of them who could not seem to abide silence, waited him out.

“I was back at Watermead,” Alec admitted, shamed by the roughness in his voice. He cleared his throat and went on, picking his way as carefully as if he was creeping into an occupied house. “It was the morning you tried to leave. I rode out after you, but I couldn't catch up.”

_The road stretched out between them, carrying Seregil further and further away until Alec wasn't even able to see him, only sense that he was just out of sight and in some terrible danger alone. Seregil hadn't glanced back even once, hadn't responded to Alec's shouts. He'd only kept riding—resignedly, inexorably—toward the doom awaiting him._

“Patch threw me, and I....”

_The horse had balked beneath him, tossing like a ship upon stormy seas, and he'd been thrown forward, tumbling head over heels straight into a reeking bear cage. Jeering faces of Plenimaran marines had loomed up outside the bars, mocking him as he'd shouted and thrown himself against the sides of his prison, desperate to escape and find Seregil._

“The dream changed. I was back in the cage.”

He wasn't aware of how tightly his nails were digging into his upper arms until Seregil sidled just close enough for his cloak to brush the back of Alec's hand. His warmth bled thinly off of him. Alec forced his tense muscles to ease, but otherwise remained still where he stood. The next part had been the worst.

_The marines had caught Seregil. They dragged him into the circle of firelight, and Alec watched as he hung limp in their grasp, unhurt, but not fighting. He looked up, dark hair falling across his face, and Alec had seen the emptiness in his eyes and known that he'd given up. Alec screamed and shouted at him, called for him, reached out to him, but none of it reached Seregil, nothing rekindled the spark that had gone out in him._

_Seregil let himself be tied to the cage. He hung still as Varg_ _û_ _l Ashnazai came up behind him, taunting them both with vindictive glee. Alec was forced to watch, helpless, as the necromancer ran Seregil through. Face contorted with pain, still Seregil didn't resist. Even as Varg_ _û_ _l pulled back his head to bare his throat for the killing stroke, there was still that horrible blankness in his eyes—no fear, no anger, not even a hint of recognition that Alec was fighting so hard to reach him. Only a sadness as deep and vast as the ocean, and quiet resignation._

“They caught you. And killed you.” He stared hard at the ground, fighting back tears again. The dream had felt too real, and its power still pulled at his heart. “You didn't fight back,” he managed, throat tight.

“Talí....” Seregil sighed and stepped closer, enveloping Alec in his cloak as he pulled him into a hug. “It was only a trick,” he whispered, stroking Alec's hair. “I'm right here with you.”

“I _know_ that!” Alec shoved back, frustrated, wounded by his own doubts. “I _know_ it was a trick! I know they never touched you! That wasn't the worst of it! You _gave up_ , talí! You let them—! You were going to...!” He broke off, furiously wiping away a spill of hot tears.

Seregil remained a step back, studying him bemusedly. “Why is that the part that bothers you so?” he asked eventually.

“Because...! Because....”

He could hardly bring himself to voice the fear that had been sitting in the back of his mind ever since he had brought Seregil back to Watermead. They hadn't stayed with Micum and his family. It was only the two of them now. What if...? What if....

“What if I'm not enough?”

Alec hugged himself, hating the weakness in his voice, in the question, and fearing Seregil's response. Something had died in Seregil the day he'd been forced to kill Nysander, and Alec had watched the fire in him guttering until all that was left were a few glowing coals of affection. Then had come that horrible morning when he'd tried to rake ashes over even that tiny bit of light, and now the two of them were on their own; no other friends to turn to in a pinch, nothing to keep Seregil from giving up again and disappearing from Alec's life just as easily as he'd entered. Alec was still so young, still inexperienced, still ignorant of so many things, and now he'd taken sole responsibility for Seregil. How could he possibly be enough to overcome that lost look that still haunted his friend's gaze? This wasn't like the time he'd fought to drag his sickening friend across unknown lands and the Inner Sea. Back then, Seregil had been fighting for his life. Over the past few months, however, Alec had only seen him dwindling within himself. He'd been letting go.

Alec didn't know how to fight that.

“Talí...is that why you're always so careful to sleep between me and the exit wherever we end up bedding down for the night?” The faint amusement in his voice stirred Alec's anger and left his cheeks burning. He hadn't realized that Seregil had noticed. “You don't trust me?”

“I _do_ , but—”

“Alec, talí.” Seregil hugged him again, wrapping his strong arms tight around Alec's back. He nuzzled Alec's neck, burying his nose in thick hair. “We're both wise enough to know better than to try to live only for one person, I think.”

Tears stung Alec's eyes again. He let them wash fresh trails down his cheeks as he hugged Seregil back, clutching him fiercely as if he could hold onto him by strength alone.

Seregil wasn't finished, however. “I can't promise you that things will ever be as they were. I rather suspect that's impossible.” He pulled back, just enough to cradle Alec's head and kiss his damp cheeks. “What I can promise is that I won't leave you, not like that. I need to find my way again and it's going to take some time.” Summoning up a smile, he rested his forehead against Alec's. “Do you feel up to being my guide again? I have a feeling that it's going to be a long journey, and perhaps none too pleasant. There are a great many evils staining my soul.”

“That's not true!”

Alec glared at him, daring Seregil to contradict his conviction, but Seregil only smiled sadly, and the look in his eyes spoke of more secrets. It was a look that seemed to say 'If only you knew,' and Alec rejected it. He buried his face in the crook of Seregil's neck, holding him for all he was worth.

“Nothing you've done has been guided by evil thoughts, talí. I won't believe it of you.”

He'd seen pride and even arrogance in Seregil through their time together, anger and ruthlessness, but he had never seen cruelty, never seen evil in any aspect of his friend's nature. Whatever ghosts of the past still haunted him, whatever else he had done that he hadn't seen fit to share, Alec knew in his bones that no evil could have motivated it.

Seregil shifted, pressing his lips to Alec's hair. “Thank you, talí. I'll be relying on your strength from now on.”

“As if you hadn't been before,” Alec said, grasping for some semblance of lightheartedness.

“I know.” The words were spoken warmly, and Alec clung to that as Seregil stroked his hair. “You've taken on so many burdens for my sake. It seems I may have become one of them.”

“Now you're just feeling sorry for yourself.”

Pushing away, he stopped as an impulse took hold of him, and leaned in to press his lips to Seregil's. They'd done little more than exchange a few, brief kisses since leaving Watermead, but every time, it left Alec both embarrassed and wanting more. He stepped back, blushing and not meeting his friend's eyes, but Seregil caught his hand and lifted it to place a kiss on the backs of his fingers.

“Take what the Lightbearer sends and be thankful.”

When Alec looked up and met Seregil's gaze and the gratitude apparent there, he was relieved beyond measure to see the tiny spark kindled in his gray eyes.

 


End file.
